Me, You and Dusk Dusk
My name is Rona, the full Rona Orange universe. People call me nerds, Because there is no place other than the library that is the target of hanging out everyday. Actually, the title does not fit. I am more berlegowo if referred to as a novel flea, because what I read in the library is just a novel, not proper nerd books in general are struggling with scientific books. To me, scientific books are so boring. No pictures, monotonous, formal and rigid language. And to me, the novel is very interesting. The execution of a neat idea, a well-structured storyline that is able to produce millions of imaginations in the reader's head.
I think reading a novel is more fun than watching a movie. When watching a movie, we drift in every scene that is displayed as the work of the director. Meanwhile, when we read the novel, every scene we are reading will play in a scene in our own imagination automatically. We are the director.
Besides my kuku, the image attached to me next is my quiet self. I'm sure, every human being is born into the world with the gift of each character and character. And incidentally, God granted me a silent nature.
I'm not disappointed to be a quiet person, I'm even grateful.
There are so many people who have an active nature of speech, but I think the liveliness of the talk they have mostly invites a lot of sin. People who are actively talking or can be called bawel or also can be called people who can not be quiet tend to talk as they pleased. They do not care that there are so many unseen hearts that are feeling.
The heart of someone who knows? Let alone for the quiet, fellow active talk alone we do not know the potential that will be felt each heart.
For example, as I accidentally heard from a woman sitting opposite me.
"Eh, atuh sia mah eta ngetikna nuhade! Meuni disheveled kieu, "said one of the glasses with the intention of correcting the results of his curly hairstyles.
However, unexpectedly the correction invited dislike of the curly hair. For a moment his face turned to annoyance, until he said these hurtful words half-jokingly half-quipped, "Heleh ngke atuh pan will be edited! We geh ngarti, mejeuh futile affairs bae glasses cheering tah! Ha ha."
I decided to move my seat. I chose to sit in one of the booths to read.
Hhh .. this is much better.
From the incident earlier, who would have thought that constructive criticism would actually upset? And who knows, the reply satirical of the curl will hurt the glasses?
For that, I am grateful.
I looked at the title on the cover of a novel by Emma Grace.
RE-WRITE.
"Write" which means "write".
For most people quiet, writing is one of the media to channel what's in their heads that can not be expressed through chat or speech. Writing is another hobby for me.
Many things I've written. Starting from mama, papa, sister, me, my school, my college, today's course, my anxiety, my turmoil, my happiness, and another thing I always write without ever forgetting a day, that is dusk. An orange in the sky a sign of the alternation of day and night. Border between tired and sound.
Dusk that is always dim, and romantic. It leads me to a beautiful memory tucked between my thousand crevices. With him, on one twilight March 25 last.
TWO WEEKS LAST
A novel is in my hand as I move my foot to the stop located in front of the campus where I study. My goal was to go to the local area librarybold
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